


Idiot (Affectionate)

by theoddling



Category: Bad Samaritan (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Derek Deserved Better, F/M, Rating May Change, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling
Summary: When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.
Relationships: Derek Sandoval/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. First Day

“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs. 

“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”

“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.

“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”

“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”

“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought _him_ along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up. 

“Hey, come on now!” he cried.

“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Shye,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but he’s so…him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust. 

“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.

“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.” 

“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that…you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”

He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough. 

“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my _initiative._ ”

“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.

Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.

“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss _Waitress_ ,” Derek said mockingly.

“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”

“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want…don’t you deserve more?”

Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help. 

Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.

“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”

Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed. 

“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.

“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”

~

“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”

Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers. 

“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.

“Cold, Shye,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”

You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”

About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.

“Shye, Shye,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”

“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.

“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.

With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh…Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean…where is Sean?”

“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin’ us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice. 

“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork. 

You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.

“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip. 

Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.

“I may have been…unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”

The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were seventeen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them. 

You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”

“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car _quickly_ if he’s going to be a valet?”

“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.” 

“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”

“I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”

“Uh…I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.

“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that. 

“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”

“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”

“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an _hour._ Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”

“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.

“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little…grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”

Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?

“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”

“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed. 

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along. 

“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “…every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”

For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta. 

“Definitely not hostile.”

“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.

This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense? 

Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit. 

Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back. 

“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.


	2. Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TW: brief instance of racism, reference to other instances

Time passed. You found yourself settling into a surprisingly easy friendship with Derek, though not one without it’s frustrations, and certainly not one that looked like friendship at all from the outside looking in. On more than one occasion, Sean had poked fun at each of you, though never in front of the other so they were aware, calling you out for flirting and playing hard to get. 

You hated him for being right and refused to admit that it was what you were doing. Your stupid schoolgirl crush on your cousin’s best friend wasn’t something you wanted to acknowledge.

~  
Nino’s had been abuzz for weeks with the news that the restaurant had been booked out for a re-election campaign event for the mayor of Portland, and now that the night had arrived, excitement had turned to panic. Nino had fretted constantly about every detail, from the amount of food and wine available to their arrangements on the plates. He had forgone setting up a buffet table for the cocktail and hor d'oeuvres hour in favor of what he thought was the much more high-end system of servers circulating with trays. And now two of the servers had, at the last minute, called in sick. 

“There are not enough people!” Nino was exclaiming. “But I cannot set out a table now! We would have to rearrange the whole room!”

You had only just arrived, stepping into the chaos from the street like passing through an invisible barrier. One that at least part of you wanted to turn around and cross back over again. 

“You need servers more than valets tonight, why not ask those two boys to help?” one of the kitchen staff suggested.

“That’s really not how their contract works,” you muttered, even though you knew it didn’t really matter in the end.

Nino looked thoughtful and turned to you. “Do you think they’d do it?”

Sean and Derek weren’t even there yet, and wouldn’t be until almost opening, so it would be a gamble, unless Nino could get them to pick up the phone. Plus they didn’t have appropriate service uniforms to your knowledge. Which meant that Nino had to either change everyone’s outfits or hope he had spares somewhere in the restaurant. Not to mention, there was no guarantee they’d even be willing, and since they were hired as valets (technically Nino’s had an account with their business, but since it was the only one so far and they didn’t really seem to be actively searching for more, he may as well have hired them directly), they weren’t obligated to do anything other than park and retrieve cars.

You sighed. The only problem with working with family was that you were expected to be able to know Sean’s thoughts on things, as if you were some kind of mind reader or expert.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “But they both have a lot of respect for you, so it can’t hurt to ask.” 

That was a lie. It could hurt. Saying no would make things awkward, saying yes would cost them a night of tips and...extracurriculars which you chose to actively not acknowledge. But the latter was probably best, since pulling their usual tricks on the mayor, his donors, and his powerful friends would be asking to get caught and spend the rest of their lives in prison.

“Great!” Nino hurried off to the phone as if you had said they would help without a doubt.

~

“Where is your tie?” Nino asked, gesturing, appalled, at Derek’s bare collar. “I told them to find you a tie. You’re not dressed properly. I can’t let you be seen like that!”

The whole staff was gathered around in the lobby for some sort of pep-talk/debrief and assignments before the doors opened for the big event. Nino was checking every detail like a hawk, jittery with nerves. The kitchen guys were anxious, not sure why they’d been dragged from their stations to the front of house, acting like a crowd of kids that got called to the principal’s office. Everyone else was casual, mostly gossiping over who they thought would be there, hoping for a political scandal to break before their eyes. 

Derek held up a length of black silk. “You got any of them clip-on kind? I’ve never worn one before, so I don’t know what I’m doin.”

Nino sputtered. You rolled your eyes, stepping up beside him.

“I’ll take care of _this_ , Nino,” you offered, gesturing at Derek’s entire self, and he had the nerve to look offended.

He nodded, turning away in a hurry, radiating nervous energy, looking for the next crisis. Finding none, he started in on his speech about how tonight was the most important night in the restaurant’s history, how he was proud to have such a dedicated staff. Then he dismissed everyone, listing off assignments as they scattered. You half listened, turning to deal with the problem of Derek’s tie. 

“Hey, thanks,” Derek said quietly, offering you a half smile.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you answered. “Nino’s a better boss than most are ever lucky enough to have. It’d be a damn shame for him to drop of an aneurysm because you don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“Sure,” he chuckled. “Well I guess that means I’m in your hands.”

You smirked at the idea, ignoring Sean’s waggled eyebrow out of your peripheral. Derek noticed, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“You’ve seriously never worn a tie before?” you asked, taking the garment from him.

“No. Why would I? I don’t exactly get invited to the kind of places you need one.”

“Right…” you sighed, stepping closer, throwing the material over your shoulder to free your hands. “Step one is fully close your dress shirt.”

Your fingers darted nimbly, closing the tiny white buttons, ghosting over his throat and making him swallow nervously. 

You continued to describe each step as you took it, looping the tie around his neck, trying to teach him what to do. But he couldn’t focus on your words, not with you standing so close that he could feel the heat radiating between your bodies. 

“And voila. Tie tied. And if someone really wanted to, you have an easy way of killing you around your neck for fashion,” you joked, brushing the fabric smooth. Your hand lingered against his chest for a moment, for reasons you couldn’t explain, before you stepped back.

Silence hung in the air.

“So I’m all set then?” he asked finally, blinking as if coming out of a daze.

“You’ve got to button your vest too, but I assume you can figure that one out for yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled, beaming at you. “I’ll give it a try.”

You laughed along with him, trying not to think about how handsome he looked, dressed up like this. Not that he wasn’t handsome all the time, even in baggy jeans and a hoodie, but the formal black and white uniform suited him. You frowned, annoyed with yourself for letting your thoughts stray down that path. 

He finished buttoning the garment and spread his arms, gesturing to himself. “How do I look? Pretty good right?”

“Not bad,” you said with a smirk and an effort to keep your voice casual. “Someone nicer might even say you clean up good.”

Suddenly his arm was around your shoulders and he leaned in to your side with a charming smirk of his own.

“Maybe they would, but you know I’ll take a ‘not bad’ from you over that any day,” he said with a laugh.

Before you could respond, he sauntered off, leaving you to glare and gape at his retreating back.

~

Derek couldn’t help himself. He was supposed to be walking around the room with this tray of shrimp puffs - or whatever rich people food Nino had assigned him, he was pretty sure it was shrimp puffs - and offering them to the guests. Instead, he was just standing in one spot, tray held out absently and teetering every time someone brushed past him, watching Y/N. She wove effortlessly through the clusters of men in pressed suits and women in silk dresses that rustled when they moved, smiling easily at them as she offered them champagne or wine. Even from a distance he could see the sparkle in her eye that made each person she spoke to feel like they were special, and as a result scored her numerous ones and fives left behind on her tray when they picked up a glass. His fingers itched to brush aside the piece of her hair that escaped its updo and danced across her temple, tucking it back into place behind her ear. 

He felt a quick flash of guilt as he traced the shape of her body in her uniform, the black vest hugging every line and curve. He shouldn’t be staring, he thought. After all, she was Sean’s cousin and Sean was his best friend. And she was a friend, these days; you don't ogle your friends. But damn if she wasn’t hot, if he didn’t want her. His mind wandered, and he was just starting to imagine what her lips on his might feel like, what she might taste like - she had smelled like apple pie earlier when she was standing so close to him, when he’d been too chicken to make a move while he had the chance, and part of him hoped kissing her would taste like it too - when fingers, covered in too many rings and jingling from the stack of bracelets on the attached wrist, snapped in front of his face, startling him and dragging him back to reality.

“Are you even listening to me?” the woman demanded before raising her voice and slowing her words, over-enunciating each syllable. “I said I want your vegetarian option.”

“Uh. All I got are these shrimp things,” said lamely. “But my buddy Sean is around here with some mushrooms, I think. With like spinach stuff inside?” 

She huffed, glaring and waiting and not saying anything. 

“I'm sorry. I'm not—” 

“Very intelligent. I can tell. I want you to bring me a plate with vegetarian appetizers. That means _no meat. Nothing_ that was _alive._ And I want a selection, not just dumping all the same thing in a pile.” 

As her voice got louder and her words even slower, it started drawing stares from the rest of the guests. He bristled at her tone, feeling his neck get hot as embarrassment and anger mingled. He knew why she was speaking to him like that. She wasn't the first.

He took a slow, deep breath. Getting angry would just play into her hand and make things worse. Before he could say anything, like maybe some remark about how plants used to be alive too, they just never had faces, Y/N appeared at his elbow.

“Derek! There you are, I've been looking everywhere,” she exclaimed.

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what she was up to, and tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach at the idea she’d been looking for him.

“Nino said there was a problem, with the...thing and unless we want the guests to just be eating tiny hors d'oeuvres all night, you have to go talk the chef down from quitting over it.”

“What?” his face scrunched in confusion as he turned to Y/N.

She rolled her eyes (he kind of loved how often she did that) and plucked the tray out of his hand smoothly, fingers brushing briefly against his, sparking under his skin like a hotwiring a car. 

“The _thing._ In the kitchen,” she said pointedly, like it meant anything. Then she turned to the woman, the largest, fakest smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Right...I’ll uh...get right on that…” he said helplessly. 

“Sorry about that ma’am,” she lied to the woman, voice sickly sweet as she led the woman off. “He’s a culinary genius, but Nino likes to shake things up and keep the staff on their toes.”

“Oh,” the woman said, seeming surprised by the shift. “I just assumed...because he was one of _them._ ”

“One of who?” Y/N asked, feigning confusion now though he could see that her eyes were hard and ice cold. Her smile took on a knife-sharp edge and he found himself grateful that it wasn’t being turned on him.

“Well. You know…”

“I’m sure I don’t. Because I can only think of one thing you might be trying to say. And I know you wouldn’t be so blatantly _racist,_ ” her voice got just a little louder, pitched toward the people around them, not the woman she was talking to, “at an important event like this. Would you?”

Derek chuckled and tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants, making his way to the kitchen. It might have been a fake reason, but he figured he may as well take the few minutes break it gave him anyway.

~

“Hey,” you said, dropping into a chair next to Derek, finally catching a short rest while the guests transitioned from one part of the evening to the next and found their seats for speeches and dinner. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah,” he said quickly, pretending that he had just been zoned out in order to cover for the fact that he was staring, again. “Just exhausted. Is this what it’s like for you every day?”

You chuckled. “It’s not usually quite this intense when we just have a few tables each to focus on. I think serving tables in a bit will be a better idea of that. But I meant about...you know...earlier.”

He made a face of confusion.

“The hag with the cheap perfume and the stupid attitude?” you offered.

“Oh that,” he shrugged. “I’m used to it. She was pretty tame, compared to some.”

“You know that’s the opposite of reassuring right? And not really an answer to the question.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Probably for the best. She’s probably a senator or their wife or something, and something tells me bitchslapping a public figure is a negative on the Character and Fitness review.” 

You scratched the back of your head in a(n adorably) sheepish gesture.

“The what?”

“The thing where I spend all this time on a degree, and in the end it all comes down to one insane bullshit test and a review of my personal history. And a bunch of stuffy old men, and women these days, decide if I’m an acceptable fit for the esteemed legal profession.”

“Legal...I didn’t know you were trying to be a lawyer?!”

“Duh,” you rolled your eyes and dropped your voice. “Why do you think I keep telling you and Sean not to get caught _yet._ I’m useless to you for another six months to a year, at least.”

“You didn’t have to step in like that,” he said after a long pause. “I could have handled it.”

“I didn’t think you couldn’t.”

“Then why’d you get involved?”

“Just because you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should have to,” you shrugged. “I could tell you were uncomfortable. I thought I could help.” 

You let your thoughts race. Had you done something wrong in trying to divert the conversation and give him an out? Did you accidentally make things worse? Was there something else you should have done instead?

“I’m not mad,” he said reassuringly, noticing the nearly panicked expression that danced across your face. “I just don’t usually get people doing that for me.”

“Well, what else are friends for?”

There was the at word again, he thought. The thing he didn’t want to destroy, but that stood unnavigable between you. He didn’t know what he was doing. This was new territory for him. It didn’t help that the line was blurry. What was real flirting and what was joking? Sometimes you made him feel more confident than ever, and then seconds later you left him drowning, insecure and flustered. Maybe this was the moment to ask, you had left the door cracked open just enough for an opportunity.

Sean caught his attention, waving him over. He realized with a start that they hadn’t talked all night, for the first time in a long time. The door clicked shut, another chance lost.   
He turned to say something, and you waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a wink and a smile that made his heart flip. “I’m not interested in monopolizing your time. Besides, if I start now, I can probably pop in a quick 10 minute nap before we have to start running the first course.”

He watched you settle further, crossing your arms over your chest and close your eyes, either to continue the joke or to actually do what you said and shook his head fondly, before sauntering off to join Sean on the other side of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to balance covering a lot of time so that this doesn’t end up 20 chapters of the same thing and I never get to canon events and also getting some good, specific moments in, so hopefully this works...


	3. Changing Tune

“Shit,” you muttered, looking up with a grimace of disgust, half-poking your head out from under the awning. You had forgotten your umbrella on your way to work earlier that afternoon, and had spent the whole shift praying that the rain would hold off long enough for you to get home. Unfortunately, it hadn’t and was coming down hard.

“Sean…” you whined, turning pleading eyes on your cousin. 

“No. Y/N, you know I love you, but I can’t. I’m supposed to meet Riley right after work,” he said. “And I’ve already been late to her place three times this month.”

“You’re just going to ‘watch a movie’ and then kick her roommate out so you can fuck. How is that something you can be late for?” you said petulantly.

Derek guffawed. “She’s got you there, man.”

“Just for that,” Sean said, waggling a finger at you mockingly. “Even if I could have given you a lift, I wouldn’t.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, making Derek laugh even more, until you turned your childish, affronted glare on him. 

“I’m glad you find it so amusing that my cousin, my own flesh and blood, would _betray_ me like this,” you huffed dramatically.

Sean rolled his eyes.

“I could walk you home,” Derek offered with a shrug.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“I don’t have an umbrella but it wouldn’t be so bad with company right...like I dunno, solidarity?”

“You’re just hoping the rain will be enough to make my work blouse see-through, aren’t you?” you teased. 

“What, nah! I’m a gentleman, I swear,” he said, placing a hand over his heart. “I want to make sure you get home, that’s all.”

“Don’t you have your car tonight?” Sean pointed out. 

“Come on man, why you gotta blow my cover like that?” Derek hissed with a laugh. 

“What was that about being a gentleman?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“Alright, so it was a little bit about tryin to see your titties. But can you blame me, I mean come on, girl, you’re gorgeous.”

“You are such a dick,” you cried, laughing, punctuating your words by playfully batting at him with fists and the sides of your hands.

He yelped, ducking your ‘blows’, trying to hide behind Sean and the podium.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Mercy!” he gasped through his laughter. “I’ll drive you home, just stop hitting me.”

Immediately, you let up on your attack. “You don’t have to, honestly,” you said, waving aside the offer. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure you can’t actually drown in the rain.”

“You were gonna let Sean drive you.”

“Yeah. But he’s family. He’s supposed to help even when it’s an inconvenience. _You_ have no such obligation.”

“That’s what friends are for though, right?” Derek asked. 

“You’re not an inconvenience,” Sean protested at the same time. “Usually.”

“Friends don’t let friends drive the opposite direction of home just because the drivee friend forgot an umbrella in Portland. That’s like forgetting sunglasses in L.A.”

Sean sighed, rolling his eyes. “Y/N. Just take the ride. Or don’t and get totally soaked. I’m sure your uniform will dry out in the...thirteen hours before you have to be back here.” He shrugged with a pointed look at his watch.

Somehow, in the course of the conversation, the rain had picked up even further, now pounding down in sheets. Very cold sheets. You looked at the waterfalls off the awning with disdain. 

With a grumble and a reluctant protest, you agreed to let Derek drive you home. 

~

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Derek navigated the slick Portland streets. You gazed out the passenger side window, lost in random thought, listening passively to the radio, until you became aware of something beneath the sounds through the speakers, almost hidden by the thrumming bass. 

Slowly, you realized that it was Derek, singing along. 

You felt your breath catch, turning to stare at him in awe. He was really, _really_ good. Trying not to call attention to the fact that you were listening, you shifted in your seat, tuning out the radio to focus on him. It was a crooner’s voice at heart, like smoke and honey, soft and warm with sharper hints of something more versatile and modern. You felt hypnotised as several songs went by, drawn in like a magnet to his sound. At the points it lacked technical brilliance, it was made better for its honesty, like no matter what he was singing, he meant it with heart and soul. 

Eventually, Derek seemed to notice your attention. 

“Y/N?” he asked, his normal conversational tone jolting you out of the near-trance he had lulled you into. “You alright?”

“I didn’t know you could sing,” you blurted, voice breathy and soft with awe.

A deep red color crept up his neck, splaying out over his ears and face all the way to the hairline and maybe beyond. He chuckled nervously. It was honestly kind of adorable, and you mentally kicked yourself as the thought crossed your mind. This was _Derek_ you were talking about. The only way he should be paired with that word was if it was in the sentence ‘look at the adorable kitten/puppy Derek is holding.’ 

“It’s just along to the radio, nothing special dawg,” he rushed to claim.

“No. I heard the radio, and I heard you. That was different, you were different. And better.”

“You’re just sayin that.”

“Have I ever said something nice to you just to say something nice?” you asked, your face skeptical. 

He laughed, unable to stop himself. “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented me at all before.”

“Kind of proving my point for me, aren’t you?” 

He snorted.

“I’m serious. Definitely the kind of voice that teenage girls would pay too much money for tickets just to scream over it in a concert.”

“Ya think?” there was a note of hopeful excitement in his question, and he seemed to turn even redder at your words.

“I mean, I’m no expert,” you shrugged. “But I did used to be one. A teenage girl that is.”

“Huh.” 

Silence, save for the upbeat pop song now playing in the background, settled back over the car as he continued to drive, pondering what you said, and you let your thoughts drift aimlessly.

“So what about you?” Derek suddenly asked, making you jump again.

“What about me?” you asked. 

He paused, a spark of tension crackling between you. He reached a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“I mean, were you...did you used to scream over boybands and shit?” he finally managed to say.

“Nah. I never had the money for concerts. Besides,” you flashed him a sheepish half-smile. “I liked some of it, but my taste was mostly more along the lines of Bowie, Broadway, and Cash than it was Fall Out Boy or whoever.”

He seemed to consider this. “Maybe I’ll have to learn some of that for you then.”

“I bet you could do a good Life on Mars,” you suggested genuinely. “Still won’t get you in my pants though.” You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips.

“Ouch!” he laughed with mock-hurt. “You still think I’m just playin you?”

“Obviously,” you shrugged. “I’m too smart to think otherwise.” 

‘No matter how much I wish you weren’t,’ you thought fleetingly. 

Derek frowned, catching something in your tone, below your usual teasing. Something...sad? No, defeated?

“You don’t think I could be serious? Or...actually into you?”

“Please,” you scoffed.

His frown deepened, hurt that no matter how close you’d gotten of late or how you acted, you still thought that low of him.

“I know I’m not really someone worth sticking around for,” you said softly. “And you’re sweet sometimes, but...that doesn’t change facts.”

He opened his mouth to protest but you kept talking.

“My own parents figured that out, I’m sure you will too. _Everyone does._ I don’t even mind anymore,” you chuckled bitterly. “It’s just the trying to pretend otherwise that hurts.”

He was silent, unsure where to even start. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong, he wanted to prove it. He wanted to keep the tears he could see building up from ever falling.

The car slowly rolled to a stop outside your apartment. He realized that somewhen the rain had let up to a fine drizzle, but the gloom had moved inside the car instead. You flashed him a smile that didn’t meet your eyes. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, leaning slightly on the doorframe as you got out, and wringing your hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And...uh...try not to worry about what I said. It’s...no big deal.”

The car door sounded heavier than ever as it closed and you headed up the walk, turning briefly as you put your key in the lock to wave. 

He continued to sit there, well after you had disappeared inside, trying to wrap his head around what had passed between you. Eventually, he had an idea.

“Sean!” he said into his phone when the Irishman in question finally answered. “Yo, I know you’re wit’ your girl, but this is important.”

~

A week or so later, Derek offered you a ride home again, even though this time it was a perfectly clear night, if a little chilly. There was no need for it, and equally no need to agree.

“Sure,” you said, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket and leaning against the building. “If you really want.”

“Great,” he smiled and there was no guile or joke or performance in it, just him, happy that you’d agreed. “We just gotta cash out with Nino and then we’ll go?”

You nodded. Sean lingered at the door, a smug, knowing look on his face.

“What?” you asked, defensive.

“Nothing, nothing. Just quite the shift from ‘oh no I don’t want to be a bother,’” he said in a tone that you thought was meant to be an impression of you, but a very bad one. “To ‘sure, Derek, I’d love a ride home.’” He batted his eyelids for added effect.

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, feeling your face heat. 

“Admit it. You’re into him.”

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re right...it’s not.” You looked down, fiddling with a pen you had found still stashed in your pocket.

Sean’s eyes widened. “Really?” He couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice.

You countered it with a glare. “Keep your mouth shut. And go cash out, before you get ripped off by your alleged best friend.”

~

You settled easily into the pleather passenger seat; Derek started the engine and the radio crackled on. You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over your exhausted mind, secretly hoping that he’d sing again. It only took a moment to register this was very different music than what he’d been playing the other night, but before you could ask about it, he started in, humming the opening, gradually gaining energy until he was belting out the lyrics.

_“Thanks to you, Bonnie babe, I can make plans again.  
I've got lots o' reasons to keep livin'  
Its true that love can set you free,  
And this world will remember me.”_

Swept up in the moment, you answered with the next verse in equal passion and drama.

_“You said you'd go straight. Clyde, I wanna be in movies.  
I can't name one movie star who's doin' robberies on the side.  
I know in my heart, babe, that Hollywood is callin',  
How can I be in the spotlight if we always have to hide?”_

The pair of you grinned at each other as you continued the back and forth, voices syncing surprisingly well for having never sung together before. You couldn’t help the sort of giddy rush you felt, losing yourself in the music and the character. 

As the last note chopped off, you reached over, turning the radio down enough to have a conversation over it.

“You’re pretty good at that, _Bonnie,_ ” he joked.

“It helps to have a good partner, _Clyde._ ” You winked dramatically.

“I try, I try.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you might see a hint of color on his cheeks. 

“You know,” you mused, with a quirk of an eyebrow, “I didn't take you for a Bonnie and Clyde fan, so I’m guessing it didn’t just happen that you were listening to one of my favorite musicals.”

“It kinda did,” his mouth twisted ruefully. “I know you said to forget it, but I couldn’t stop thinkin about the other night and I,” he glanced over at you, checking to see if you were angry before continuing, “wanted to show you that you’re important to people, that we...I...care about you. So I asked Sean what some of your favorite songs and stuff were.”

You swallowed, fighting back a wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you. Still, when you spoke, your voice came out soft and breaking. “Oh.”

“I was gonna surprise you by learning some and then find an excuse to sing 'em for you or with you or something, but this is the only one I got so far, and it was by accident.”

“What do you mean?” Curiosity overrode everything else for the moment.

“It just gets stuck in your head man. I’ve been listening to it for days.”

You joined in his laughter. “It does doesn’t it?”

“I can’t figure it out.”

“Probably because it’s so relatable. The dressing’s complicated, but in the end it’s just about people in love, people with dreams.”

He fell quiet, considering. 

Something hung over the pair of you that you couldn’t quite find a name for, or didn’t want to maybe. It felt safe though, whatever it was, and you wanted to cling to it.

Not sure what else to say or do, you nudged the volume up and threw yourself back into the musical, hiding yourself in Bonnie Parker for a time.

~

_That girl's got somethin'_  
Nothing scares her  
Only piece of luck that's ever come my way 

Derek was singing softly, and his hand reached out, fingers tentatively brushing against yours. It was on instinct that you turned your hand and slipped your fingers through his, lacing them together for a moment, the action just feeling right. Seconds later, your mind caught up to what your body had done and you recoiled, jerking away as if his touch had burned you. 

“I don’t know why I...I mean I wasn’t...I...sorry,” you stammered.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a half-hearted shrug. “You uh, you have soft hands.” 

Almost in a whisper, he added, “I liked it. I wanna keep holding your hand, if you want me to.”

You glanced down at his still outstretched hand, and then back up at his face. He stared resolutely ahead, eyes fixed on the road, as if that could hide the waiting tension that he practically hummed with. He’d told you, in a way, how he felt and now he was leaving it up to you. 

Hesitantly, you reached back, sliding your fingers back to where they’d been. You chewed on your lip, staring nervously at the juncture where your skin touched, mind racing. You weren’t sure what it meant, or how it would change things, and you were afraid. Derek was already important to you (you took a moment to marvel at that change, wondering when exactly it had happened). If you let the connection grow…You debated retracting your hand. At least if you pulled back, it would be your choice, for once, to lose. 

You felt a slight pressure as he squeezed your hand comfortingly and flashed you a grin. You smiled back. 

Maybe this — maybe Derek — was worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Carlito Olivero, who plays Derek, came in 3rd on X-Factor and is [really good.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_DpbIilN4A&list=LL&index=2)
> 
> The songs actually referenced in the chapter though, are all from the Bonnie and Clyde musical. But the link is a good choice for listening to/imagining during the middle bit.


End file.
